Awakened Ties
by Keithan
Summary: One moment, two words - mission acknowledged - and everything changes as Quatre feels how it is to die, but he never understands how it is possible. -41 24 friendship-


**a/n: **Before Geass R2 and Vampire Knight take any more of my writing time, and before writing class takes away my GW writing time, I'm posting this. Now.

* * *

**Title:** _Awakened Ties_  
**Author:** Keithan  
**Disclaimers:** Gundam Wing and its characters belong to their respective owners.  
**Rating:** PG-13 / T  
**Series:** One-shot (but it's also just another chapter in what is now turning out to be a series of one-shots: _This Race We Run, Tainted Sand, Listening to the Melody, Sliding to Oblivion, In Two Months, Within the Borders of Sanq, _and with _In a Journey's Spire _as its foundation.)  
**Warnings:** None  
**Pairings:** Technically none, but a bit of 41 connection and 24 friendship  
**Summary: ** One moment, two words -- mission acknowledged -- and everything changes as Quatre feels how it is to die, but he never understands how it is possible.  
**Notes: ** A Quatre-centric extended scene or gap-filler for the series that takes place when Duo and Quatre first met, exploring one of the first _interactions_ Quatre had with Heero.

* * *

**Awakened Ties  
**_by Keithan_

_-o-o-o- _

_Ninmu __Ryoukai._

_Light explodes in his eyes. His vision turns into a sudden flurry of colors before it blanks out to white. His hands clutch at his chest. His mouth opens, but he barely notices that the strangled cry of agony comes from him. It echoes in his ears and in the enclosed space of his cockpit, a hollow and distant sound._

_His thoughts leave him. His breath hitches, almost stops all together as his chest tightens painfully, as though his heart is being twisted and wrenched from its confines. He crumples in his seat, cries of pain leaving his suddenly dry lips. He shuts his eyes tight, but from their corners, tears still manage to escape, just as beads of sweat gather in his forehead. He tries to breathe but he can't, and what breath he manages, comes in short ragged gasps. All the while, his hands grip the shirt at his chest, a useless attempt to ease the pain. _

_In some distant part of his mind, he wonders if this is how it is to die. _

_-o-o-o- _

Quatre observed the fury of the sandstorm that assailed his screens. The storm waging outside impeded his mobile suit's cameras to produce a clear visual. There was nothing to be seen beyond a few kilometers radius. He could barely make out the shadows of the Maganacs' suits in the storm of sand as they were a perfect camouflage in the desert.

The screens blurred in his eyes for a moment, and he blinked to clear his vision. He shook his head, suddenly feeling weary. He brought a hand up to his chest, taking comfort in the soothing motions of rubbing lightly above his heart.

"Maintain your protective circle," Rashid's voice said over the radio, and in the harsh lashing of nature outside, his exterior microphones could hardly make out the sounds of moving suits. The radio air was quiet and tensed. All of them were still quite caught up in the battle they just escaped from. Despite the storm, the desert was unusually silent. It was almost deafening to Quatre.

He looked down at the controls, and reached out to flick his radio communication on. There was only noise for a few seconds before the sound of a successful connection to their network was heard. He ignored it for a few moments, suddenly wondering why he was acutely aware of his own breathing, as if he was counting every inhale and exhale. He shook his head trying to clear his mind, only to feel a slight tremble in his hand as it held onto one of the control stick.

"Master Quatre?"

The sound of his name reached his ears, and he was almost embarrassed when he realized it was not the first call. He opened his mouth, but choked on the words. His mouth was dry. He tightened his grip on his controls as he took in a deep breath.

He needed to be calm, and somehow, he didn't know why he felt like he was anything but. He frowned.

Wetting his lips almost hesitantly, he tried again, willing his voice to be steady and clear. "We will wait until the desert has lashed out the brunt of her storm, everyone. This sandstorm is too much, even for us, and we still have a long way to go. I'm sure we can find safety in her cradle," he said. The patch of trees and rocky hills they found was a perfect hiding place in the otherwise open desert. "Enemy suits are still patrolling the area. They might be expecting movement from us in the cover of the storm. We will lie low for the time being. Mobile suit status?" he asked.

"All clear," Rashid answered. "Fuel still good for more than a few hours. Ahmed's hit is the most damage we got, but nothing to worry about and all forty are still fit for battle."

"Good," he said before disconnecting his end of the connection from their network.

There was a soft bleep to his right before the image of the Maganacs' leader appeared. His face was in a worried frown. "Are you all right, Master Quatre?"

Somehow, he managed to smile even though it took a bit of effort. "I am, Rashid. Thank you." The other studied him for a while, before Quatre smiled and waved a hand. "I'm okay. Tell everyone to take a rest, but..."

"Don't worry about it. I'll have everyone be on their guard. Rest, Master Quatre."

Quatre nodded and uttered his gratitude.

He maneuvered Sandrock further back into one face of the rocky hill, seeking protection and cover, even as he leaned back against the pilot seat, releasing a soft and almost shaky sigh. He flicked his fingers at the controls and the screens blacked out as he placed his Gundam on standby.

In the darkness of the cockpit, he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands, and he became aware of a few silent tears that suddenly fell unbidden from his eyes. Blinking in surprise, he reached his fingers to his face, wondering where they came from.

"I'm crying..." he wondered softly in the darkened cockpit. He looked up and frowned at the monitors, as though he was seeing something other than the black screens of his cockpit.

_But why?_

_-o-o-o- _

There was a beep from his right, and Quatre opened his eyes to regard the red blinking light. He reached out a hand and flipped a control cover open and pushed a button beneath it. His right screen lighted up and was filled with a three-dimensional layout of the surroundings and among the green lines and graphs of the terrain, he saw a faint red signal moving towards their area.

He frowned just before his hands started to work over the control panel with obvious skill and familiarity of use. His screens lighted up one by one. On his left showed the storm patterns and weather signals and he took a brief glance at it to commit them to memory. The storm had considerably receded, but it was far from being over.

His front screen was split and it showed three mini-screens, all of which showed him the current movement of Oz and their pursuing enemies. Enemy mobile suits had retreated, but scout planes still roamed the area. He nodded once before turning to open a connection to their network.

"Rashid," he called. "How much longer before we can reach your underground base?"

Rashid's face appeared on his screen, and Quatre could see the man checking some data. "It's not that far, Master Quatre. But given the storm..."

Quatre nodded. "Give me a time estimate then. I've checked our status. The storm will continue steadily for sometime, before it lashes out again. We can use it as a cover this time as MS patrols had been replaced in favor of scout planes, and I doubt they will stay during the storm. Oz is still in action, though. If we tarry longer, we risk encounter." In the periphery of his vision, he could see the faint signal, blinking against the map of the surroundings.

He could see Rashid checking some more data on his suit before nodding once. "It would take less than an hour, depending on our speed and stealth, and around 30 minutes more if we encounter any difficulties."

"MS status?" Quatre wanted to know.

"Still clear."

"Good. The Gundam Oz calls 02 is within the area," Quatre informed him, and was not surprised to see the slight confusion in the man's face. Gundams were not easily detected, and he was sure that 02 still hadn't come up on any of the Maganacs readings. He glanced at the signal on his right that told him that their guest was just nearly within their range. "I'll invite him with us. We all have little choice with this much security and our enemies on high alert."

Quatre unbuckled himself from his seat and turned around, reaching behind to pull out a sandy-colored cloak from the cockpit's compartment.

"Where do you think the others went?"

The blonde pilot paused in his movements. In his mind's eye, he saw the scientist called J, and he saw Gundam 01, heard it as it blew itself into pieces as if he was just in the same area. He clenched the cloak in his fists and frowned in thought. "I do not know, Rashid. I do not know."

_-o-o-o- _

Quatre adjusted the goggles on his face. The wind was picking up speed again. He would have to hurry.

He clipped the radio on his belt and secured the flash spotlight on another belt that he strapped across his chest. Working quickly, he double-checked his equipment. He tugged at the rope, content with it when he felt the resistance. Tightening the carabiner on his harness, he checked if it was locked. Satisfied, he gathered the coil of rope and threw it down the edge of the cliff, shaking it to make sure it didn't knot.

Quatre turned his radio on and tapped the communicator on his ear. "Rashid, I'm going down. Has 02 changed its position yet?"

"Not yet, Master Quatre. You will find him where you said he would be," the Maganac leader informed him over the comm.

Quatre squinted at the trees below the edge, trying to mark out the exact position of the Gundam. A glint of light caught his eyes. "Copy that. I see him. Going down now." He held the tail end of the rope and secured it to his back with his brake hand. He leaned back over the edge, testing first the rope's hold, before jumping over to rappel down. Having no gloves, he was careful in holding the rope, and in two long jumps, he found a ledge with just the right height to perch on. He let the rope slack so that he could move freely.

He removed the flash spotlight he carried on his back, and turned it on. He raised it towards the direction of the other Gundam pilot to flash his message, his radio frequency, in code.

"Come on. Pick up. Pick up," Quatre whispered under his breath. The wind was catching his cloak, and it flapped against him. He continued on flashing his light. "Come on. The storm's going to break out soon."

Despite the steady murmur of the wind, it was not long before his trained ear picked up the telltale sounds of machinery and the relatively quiet movements of the Gundam. The crackle of the radio in his ear was a welcome sound. "Zero-two, do you copy?" he asked even before he was sure the connection was fully established.

There was radio noise for a moment, before the click to a successful connection was heard. "This is zero-two. I hear you clearly. Declare yourself."

"Zero-four," he just said as an introduction. "You and I are in the same position it seems. Because of what happened, we can't mobilize," as he said this, his eyes, despite the goggles, blurred with moisture. He bit his lip momentarily. "My suit is just over these rocky hills and my men are on the other side," he continued, willing his voice to be steady. "We haven't had any trouble, but we weren't able to move as well. Security is tight. We have plans. You and I can take refuge in a neutral base near here. Do you want to come?"

He heard the other pilot sigh, and the heaviness of it brought to him the same feeling of helplessness.

_Ninmu __Ryoukai. _

Again, a tear managed to escape his eyes without his notice, as if the moisture in them merely overflowed. He frowned as he blinked back the rest. He raised a hand to his chest, wondering at the sudden tightness. _Don't think about it now, Quatre, _he thought and told himself a few times more. Not for the first time, he thought, _Think about what? _

Gundam 02 revealed itself from the cover of trees and stood just in front of Quatre. It lifted a hand to him. Quatre smiled before releasing himself from the rope and climbing the offered hand of the Gundam.

"Let's take you to your suit," Pilot 02 said.

"Rashid," Quatre called, pressing a finger to his earpiece to hear better.

"Yes, Master Quatre?"

"We're heading back. Secure the area for 02."

Just then, scout planes flew overhead and the black Gundam hid itself in the trees just in time before they could be spotted.

"You're right. With enemy scout planes flying over every five minutes, no one can do anything out here," was the other pilot's observation, to which Quatre nodded.

He looked up at the Gundam, taking comfort at talking to the familiar, yet unfamiliar face of the Gundam 02. "A heavy sandstorm is approaching. We'll cross the desert when it hits. Do you want to go with me?" The wind was speeding up again, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before the storm hits with full force once more.

"I'll leave it up to you," came the response from the other pilot. "I'm too emotionally drained to think right now."

Quatre tightened his grip on the large metal thumb. He looked down. _Emotionally drained. _He realized then, that he, too, was too emotionally drained.

_-o-o-o- _

"Are they safe when they're hiding us?" The pilot had introduced himself as Duo Maxwell.

Quatre looked absently at the back of his companion as the other pilot stared outside and watched the festival going on. His eyes trailed the long braided hair nearly reaching the other's knees. He opened his mouth to answer, but he found it dry with words. He took a sip from his tea, organizing his thoughts before saying, "I know we're placing them in danger simply by being here."

Duo turned his head halfway to look at him. "You sure have many connections to be welcomed as such knowing the danger it brings to them."

"They welcome the Maganacs ," Quatre said, shaking his head. He looked down at his cup of tea. "And that is not a matter of connections or influence," he said. "It's loyalty. A loyalty whose story goes way back, before all this ever started."

Duo raised a brow in silent question, but when Quatre didn't elaborate, he turned back to the festival outside. "I'll be sure to get a story or two out of you then, when this mess has considerably settled down." The other pilot tilted his head to him and offered a grin and a wink. "You'll soon find that not even the sole Winner heir can escape my questioning when my curiosity is stroked. And you have, you know, being a Winner and all this." He waved a hand and Quatre was not sure if he was indicating the town that whole-heartedly accepted them or the war and battle constantly being waged outside the borders.

He just managed a polite smile. Under different circumstances, he might have found this meeting highly intriguing. Duo's dampened mood wasn't enough to hide his outgoing and cheerful nature and Quatre had seen enough glimpses. But the atmosphere in the room was no where near comforting. The recent events that brought them together cloaked them both with an unseen weight. Duo even stood quietly in thought and he had the vague impression that the braided pilot didn't often do that.

"What do we do now?"

"I'm asking myself the same question," Quatre said. He had been thinking the exact same thing since the moment one of the scientists' face flickered on his screens. "There are five, aren't there?"

Duo turned to him, turning his back to the window and leaning back on the sill. "Them?" he asked. "It seems so. I got mine from one named G. A funny looking guy with a weird hair and crooked nose."

Quatre nodded. "H," was all that he offered.

Duo nodded once, piecing the new information in his mind. "Five of them, five of us."

They were silent for a long while, and Quatre couldn't help but raise a hand to his chest, going back again to what happened. He found that he wasn't able to concentrate much on the subject when what happened to him still remained a blank slate in his mind, except for two words.

_Ninmu __Ryoukai. _

In their last mission, the colonies had been held hostage to order their surrender. One of them had self-destructed instead of surrendering his suit. Quatre rubbed his temples with his free hand, before moving to rub absently at his chest again. He blamed the heat for the sudden moisture in his eyes.

It was the first time that Oz had actually managed to push them in a corner with no means of escape. He nearly cursed them for playing such dirty tactics. Quatre would have appreciated a worthy battle if only they had been a little more elegant with their strategies.

It was the last thing he heard during that battle, _mission acknowledged, _ just before he felt his heart constrict. He didn't even remember who had said it or if it was just all in his mind. All that was left in his memory was the pain that followed, which completely immobilized him for a few seconds. He had no memory of the seconds before that. For a few moments, he honestly thought he felt his heart _just stop. _If Trowa hadn't called his attention, he would probably have stayed unmoving for longer than what was safe.

"We need to get out of here," Duo said.

"Ninmu Ryoukai."

"What?"

The braided pilot raised his head, eyes narrowed at him.

Quatre was sitting at the wooden bed beside a small round table and was holding a forgotten cup of tea in his hands. He was snapped out of his reverie and he looked up, confused. "What?" he asked, echoing the question back to the other pilot. His mind backtracked, blinking in confusion. "I said that out loud?"

Duo just raised a brow.

Quatre tried to smile, a mere turning of the corners of his lips. He shook his head in apology. "I'm sorry. I was just remembering something," he said, automatically bringing the cup he was holding to his lips.

"You sounded just like Heero," Duo said, bringing his eyes down to the floor. His expression closed off.

The cup stopped halfway. He tilted his head at him, frowning slightly. The name was familiar, and he inwardly chastised himself for being so out of it he couldn't place a single name. He knew who it was. He just couldn't think who exactly it was that moment. "Heero?" he asked softly. He was quick enough to see the flash of pain in the other pilot's eyes before it was masked. Quatre couldn't quite explain the sense of dread that he suddenly felt. _Heero __ is... _

"Heero... he..." Duo broke off, trying to find the right words to say. "He made it clear what our choice was supposed to be." He cursed under his breath. "I thought he was smart, but I guess he's just too... _perfect, _ even in that. He was the idiot in 01," he said the last in a rush, and the significance of those words was reflected in the moment of silence that followed it. They knew, of course, how each of them was referred to by Oz, and, as not all five of them had met yet, the numbers had been useful.

_Pilot 01. _

Quatre was surprised, utterly so that he neither felt the hot wind coming from the outside nor heard the loud festivities going on. The surroundings just seemed to go on mute in his ears, but those two words that haunted him since their last mission was like a mantra echoing in the silence of his mind. "He self-destructed," he said.

_He was miles away. _

The cup previously in his hands shattered on the wooden floor, spilling the already lukewarm tea on his pants and the floor.

Duo was immediately beside him, but Quatre remained frozen where he sat, both hands clutching at his chest. "Heero," he whispered, and flashes of indiscernible images suddenly bombarded his eyes. He stood up, knocking the round table as he did.

_Ninmu __Ryoukai. _Light exploded in his vision and he felt himself crumple down the floor on his hands and knees, gasping. _It's happening again, _ he thought. "It hurts." The fierce whisper came out as a pained cry.

"Quatre!"

Quatre felt hands on his face, and when he looked up, he met Duo's eyes wide with panic. "Shit. Your skin is cold and clammy. What's going on?" Duo's voice reflected his alarm and he was about to cry out for help when Quatre grabbed the other pilot's wrist, preventing him to do so. Duo just barely managed not to wince at the tight grip.

"Don't," he just said, before he closed his eyes, tears escaping them still. He controlled his breathing and for a few moments, he just stayed still, and not even Duo's shaking got him to move. He cleared his mind, not letting whatever assailed him to overpower him. He had an inkling feeling that this collapse should have happened a few hours earlier, when he was still in his suit in the middle of a battle. He was not sure though if he wanted to answer the question why it was even happening in the first place.

Previously distant sounds started to enter his ears again, as the sound of his pounding heart toned down in volume. Quatre shook his head finally, when he felt he was in control of himself once more. He offered a weak smile before looking down at the floor. It was stained with a few drops of dark brown -- blood on wood. His hands landed hard on the broken porcelain. "I don't understand," he murmured to himself, as though talking to the wooden floor.

"What?" Duo demanded, almost desperate for any explanation.

When he got his breathing in control and he trusted himself enough to be coherent, he said, "I'm okay."

"The hell you are," Duo replied, as he helped him back to a sitting position.

"Give me a few moments. I'm okay," he said again. "It happens sometimes." It was a lie, and Duo saw through it. But he met the disapproving frown evenly. "I'm sorry. I can't explain something I don't understand, so we'll just leave it at that for now, okay?"

"You just don't break down on someone and say it's nothing," the panic in his voice was gone now, and Quatre was mildly surprised to hear the concern.

"I..." he started, before shaking his head. Now was not the time for explanations he was not even sure of. "It's the heart," he just said in a whisper too soft to be really heard. "It's the heart of outer space."

"What?"

Duo continued to frown at him, but the smile was back and he ignored the other pilot first in favor of cleaning up the mess he'd made. He said he didn't understand, and maybe he really didn't. But as far as what happened in that last mission, he felt as though everything had just become crystal clear.

_-o-o-o- _

_Ninmu __Ryoukai. _

_He tries to control his breathing. He hunches over inside his cockpit, elbows on his knees, shoulders heaving with every shaky breath. He raises a hand and rakes it through his now damp hair, noticing with a start that his hands are shaking. He holds both of them in front of his face, seeing them tremble. He frowns. _

_He shakes his head, massaging his temples with unsteady fingers. He pauses, hesitates before bringing a hand warily to his chest, fingers lightly rubbing over his wrinkled shirt. He bites his lower lip in quiet thought. _

_All this is just a moment though, and that moment passes when his speakers crackled to life and a familiar voice sounds over the comm. He looks up, his eyes narrowing into focus. He blinks back the remnants of moisture in his eyes and he fists his hands tightly before straightening in his seat, sweeping his eyes over several monitors in his screen. _

_Oz still holds the colonies hostage. One scientist has revealed himself, explicitly saying that they will never hand over the Gundams. They are trapped, and... _

_Zero-one has self-destructed. _

_He clenches his fists tighter, before opening them only to wrap his now steady fingers around his controls, and one hand flies over the panel on his other side, readying his suit. Not a second later, once again, Quatre Raberba Winner is ready to prove to the Federation and to Oz what his Gundam and its pilot are capable of. _

_The moment has passed. The moment of having felt his heart crushed and twisted as if willing it to stop beating. But the feeling lingers at the back of his mind, and in the midst of their retreat, Quatre takes another moment -- a moment where his eyes soften in silent confusion, and his brows furrow in thought. It is just a brief moment when a hand rises to his chest, and he wonders what it is that has just happened. _

_-o-o-o-_

**End  
04.23.08**

**Author's Notes: **

If I say I really have no new fics, I mean it, in a way. This is not new. The very start of this, and by that, I mean at least a scene of this, is _years_ old. Mostly all of my to-write fics, those that are already started, are as old as my first GW fic, since all of them stemmed out from _In a Journey's Spire. _There's a tad bit of sense of completion as I manage to cough up a fic from that list (even if it's once a year!) because it brings me closer to completing, in essence, the fic that started it all.

What I'm really saying here is, I'm glad to have posted another fic again. Thanks for reading!


End file.
